


Tracking the Infamous Jersey Devil

by chapscher



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, I took some liberties with the lore, M/M, Shane is thirsty, a lot of cuddles, but the legend remains the same, shyanexchange2k18, shyanwritingevents, thanks jupiter ending, these tags aren't in chronological order don't freak out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-28
Updated: 2018-08-28
Packaged: 2019-07-03 17:00:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 19,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15823149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chapscher/pseuds/chapscher
Summary: This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved Ryan and Shane are in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey to track and capture on film the infamous creature: The Jersey Devil, who lurks among the trees of this strange forest. Ryan, as always, is focused on the task at hand while Shane can't help but to think about Ryan and their "arrangement." But what happens when the legends of New Jersey become reality?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VictoriaAGrey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VictoriaAGrey/gifts).



“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we are in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey to track and capture on film the infamous creature: The Jersey Devil, who lurks among the trees of this strange forest.”

Shane looked at the camera pointed at him and shook his head. He waited for a reaction, or at least some acknowledgement from the stoic cameraman, Mark. No reaction ever came. Mark watched the screens in front of him with an unchanged expression as he silently crocheted behind a row of monitors and tablets. But from out of the corner of Shane’s eye he could see Ryan crack a smile.

“Well, don't shake your head too soon,” Ryan said. “After all, I have plenty of time to change your mind here.”

“A lot of time.”

“That’s right. You called for it, we’ve been looking for a chance to do it, and we are now finally able to pull it off: we’re staying in a haunted location for two whole nights.”

“Two nights!” Shane chimed, smiling at Ryan.

“And, now that I think about it,” Ryan said, his eyes settling on Shane, “two nights with the big guy might be a bit _too_ much time.”

“But we have increased our odds of finding a ghoul by 100%.”

Ryan paused, thinking about that for a moment. His brow furrowed slightly, shifting the fringe of hair that stuck out from under his winter beanie. They were both wearing at least four layers of clothing even inside the small cabin, but Ryan’s clothes were heavier and he refused to take off his hat or thick gloves. The cabin warmed up steadily, its radiator already too hot to touch. And with the moving bodies, electronics, and the roaring fireplace, Shane was positive that within the hour it would get uncomfortably warm.

Although at the moment it was crowded, this was the sort of place that Shane fantasized living in someday. He loved the thought of a small cabin near a stream, perhaps only slightly larger than the cabin he was in now. And he wished that it was something Ryan would want too, if Ryan could ever bring himself to want to leave the city.

“We may have increased our odds by more than 100%,” Ryan said. “We haven't been able to have a full 24-hour day investigating a location before, and that's what we’ll be doing tomorrow.”

“Well, we won't be outside for all of tomorrow. And he’s not about to come in here.”

“No,” Ryan agreed. “At least, that kind of behavior hasn't been recorded. However, this area has had such a long history that ghosts have been seen in the area as well; and _they_ have been reported inside cabins.”

“It's a twofer!”

“Possibly. But our focus will be on The Jersey Devil.”

“Ryan,” Shane said, sitting back in his chair. “Tell me about this Jersey Devil.”

“Oh, you wanna get right into it?” Ryan asked with a smile.

As much as Shane wanted to respond he wasn't able to form words in that moment. There was a sort of radiance, a sort of brilliance, in Ryan's smile. Although Ryan smiling or laughing was hardly a rare sight, there were some instances where it still caught Shane completely off guard. There was something overwhelming about the curved shape of Ryan's full lips and the way his cheeks lifted when he grinned. It was a quickly-passing moment that hardly showed up on camera at all, but it rendered Shane entirely helpless.

Ryan reached down to his backpack and pulled out a folder, crossing his legs and setting it down on his lap. The notes that Ryan kept were minimal and he rarely looked at them, but he did seem to be more comfortable in telling the story when he had them in his hands.

“The Legend of The Jersey Devil, or The Leeds Devil, as it used to be called, starts in 1735. Allegedly, a woman by the name of Jane Leeds, or “Mother Leeds” lived here, in the Pine Barrens, with her husband and twelve children. During the difficult birth of her thirteenth child, Mother Leeds started shouting in agony and said, quote, ‘Let it be the Devil.’”

“Strange thing to say.”

Ryan set his files back onto his lap and looked at Shane. “She was having horrible labor pains, I can’t imagine that her thoughts had much of a filter at that point. I mean, I’m sure not very nice things were said when my mom was giving birth to me. And the same probably goes for you.”

“Nope.”

Ryan scoffed. “Oh, so you’re perfect?”

“C-Section, baby.”

“Well, you act like someone cursed you to be the devil sometimes; that’s what I’m getting at.”

“‘Let it be the devil,’” Shane echoed. “I still think that’s a weird thing to say. I mean, I get that she was upset, but that’s so… specific. And weird, what a weird thing to say. How would the baby being the devil make the birth any easier? That seems like more of a curse on her than a curse on the kid.”

“Maybe she was thinking that she was going through so much trouble that the baby might as well be the devil. Also, it’s a more meaningful curse for her because, unlike you, she believed in the devil and demons. So while invoking the devil may be another Tuesday for you, for her it carried more of a weight.”

“That’s fair.”

“Anyways,” Ryan picked up his file again, dark eyes scanning down to where he left off. “The child was born looking normal and healthy, but within minutes it began to transform. Its face elongated, with the nose and mouth pushing out into a muzzle. Two large, bat-like wings sprouted from its back. Its legs turned to hooves and its hands into claws. It grew a gray-ish brown fur all over its body. It flew around the room, killing the midwife before it flew into the fireplace and up the chimney. It disappeared into the Pine Barrens and was never seen by the Leeds family again.”

“It- hmm.”

“What?”

Shane looked up at the ceiling in thought. “I’m just thinking that… it seems to me like that’s the sort of story that people would tell at the time if a woman was pregnant and no baby came out of it. I mean, miscarriages used to be blamed on women and the devil all the time. To me it sounds like a product of that kind of thinking.”

“Parts of it might be,” Ryan agreed. “There was nothing found of a Jane Leeds, but there was a Deborah Leeds who lived in the area in the early 1700s. And in 1736 her husband, Japhet Leeds named twelve children in his will. So there is a historical record accounting for the Leeds family. I don’t think it’s too much of a logical leap to suggest that Deborah’s name was temporarily lost to history and was replaced with ‘Jane’ as in ‘Jane Doe.’ But to me that’s not enough to explain the dead midwife.”

“Maybe there was no midwife,” Shane said. “I can’t imagine that there was any sort of record of this, let alone an investigation. Do we have a description of the crime scene? Can _the boys_ solve the mystery?”

“No, there wasn’t an investigation,” Ryan said with a roll of his eyes. “But there have been sightings of The Jersey Devil in the years- in the centuries that followed.”

“Oh yes,” Shane said with a coy grin, leaning over in his chair to reach for his backpack. “Tell me all about these sightings.”

Ryan watched him curiously for a second before he saw Shane pull several large, rolled pieces of paper from his backpack. He looked to the camera and then to Shane. “Are you seriously doing this?” His voice was impatient.

Shane took the rolls of paper out and smiled at Ryan, although his smile quickly faded from his eyes when he saw how irritated Ryan looked. He decided to address the camera instead. “Earlier today we talked to a few locals who-”

“You’re ruining the illusion!” Ryan blurted out, making Mark look up from the screens for the first time in god-knows how long. “I was going to make it look like we did that later today.”

“And I wanted to make sure that I had some visuals ready for when you started this part of your presentation.”

“Don’t talk like you were helping!” Now Ryan turned to the camera. “He never wants to do any of the questioning but today I couldn’t get him to stop, and now I know why. He straight-up interrogated these witnesses and made them draw the monster and literal devil that chased them through the woods.”

Shane made a little dismissive noise through his nose. “I didn’t ‘make’ them draw anything. I asked them to draw and, you know what? All of them were delighted to do so. In fact, a few of these actually look really good. They were happy to show off their talents.”

“They wouldn’t be so happy if they learned that you would be using their drawings to mock them _and_ mock me.”

“They don’t care if I mocked you,” Shane said, organizing the rolls of paper and setting them on his lap. “Now, tell me about these sightings. Tell me what the Jersey Devil looks like.”

“No! You finally put together part of this presentation, how about _you_ tell us what the monster looks like? Since you’re so excited about it.” Ryan crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, rolling his eyes again. “He finally does part of his share of research and he completely takes control of the show.”

“I do research with our other cases,” Shane said, unrolling the first drawing.

Ryan’s eyes settled on the paper, not even able to see what was on it but still fuming. “Oh God, I was ready to fucking kill you when you were doing this. I’m ready to kill you now. You know we’re sharing this cabin this weekend; you remember that, right? If you can’t sleep with one eye open then you didn’t plan this very well.”

Shane shook his head, refusing to make eye-contact with Ryan. “I… erm… I was thinking that… that maybe this could be kinda fun because-”

“You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Shane hesitated before nodding. “…That’s fair.”

Ryan sighed and crossed his arms, tensed muscles only just visible under his heavy winter clothing. Shane tried not to stare too long before examining Ryan’s face. He still looked annoyed, but nowhere near as furious as he had been a moment ago.

“Alright,” Ryan said. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Shane looked back down at the drawing, the wind pulled out of his sails as Ryan watched him, lips pursed into a frown. “Um… well… this is one of the drawings our witnesses gave. And as you can see,” he turned the picture around so it faced the camera, “It’s a little goat with bat wings.”

The picture was pretty much that, a goat with bat wings and standing on its thin, bone-like hind legs. Its neck was long and arms disproportionately small.

“It’s not just ‘a little goat,’” Ryan said with an exasperated sigh. “And even if it was, it’s a little goat that would have been sent by Satan. You can’t tell me that that wouldn’t be at least a little unnerving.”

“You would be scared of this?” Shane asked, shaking the drawing at Ryan. “It looks like its two feet tall.”

“What if it’s more than two feet tall? What if it’s taller than you?”

“Then I’m still not afraid because this thing looks like its center of gravity is way off. There’s no way something like this would balance standing up unless its feet are made of lead and it has a head made of helium. And judging by this drawing, that just might be the case.”

“Hey! Don’t make fun of our guests’ art skills!”

“I’m not! I’m commenting on the subject matter.”

“Okay, so it's not traditionally scary,” Ryan conceded. “I’m sorry this literal demon from the 1700s doesn't fit your strict 21st Century interpretation of horror.”

“If it's a literal demon then it came out of Hell’s petting zoo.” Shane let himself smile as he saw a familiar amused light catch Ryan’s eyes. “Little tiny child demons would pay a quarter for a handful of feed to give the Jersey Devil.”

“Alright, alright,” Ryan said. “This form of the Jersey Devil was common up until the last hundred years or so. But, you know, at the time it was scary.”

“I’m sure it was,” Shane said, setting the drawing down. “It would have been horrifying if you lived in the 1790s and had never seen a goat before.”

“Okay, smartass, show us the next picture.”

Shane unrolled the second drawing. “Now, this one I was hesitant to add in at first, but after I saw a few other Jersey Devil pictures that looked similar to this, I changed my mind. And for the better, I think.”

Shane turned the paper around to reveal a creature with goat legs and the upper body of a human except it had the head of a horse. Its otherwise human-like fingers ended in sharp claws and its large bat wings spread out behind it. It had a tail that hung to the ground and lightly curved upwards, ending in an arrow-like point.

“As you can see,” Shane said, gesturing at the drawing. “This one is essentially just a furry. Look, it has pecs.”

“Well, I think you just gave away why you’re so interested in this thing,” Ryan said. “We’re back to this odd fascination you have with furries.”

“Look at how ripped this Jersey Devil is and tell me that this isn’t a furry. This is Satan’s fursona, that’s what we’re looking at.”

“What?!”

“According to you-”

“No, not according to me!”

“According to you,” Shane repeated. “You said that The Jersey Devil is the literal Devil that Mother Leeds called for. It’s Luci-fur.”

Ryan rubbed at his temples. “If I agree that this design is absurd will you promise to go the rest of the weekend without saying ‘Luci-fur’ again?”

“I’ll give it my best shot, but I don’t know if I can promise that,” Shane said as he put the drawing away. “But that does bring me to this last drawing. And, really, in my opinion, this is what a terrifying Devil-cryptid should look like.”

Shane unrolled the final drawing and turned it towards the cameras. It was far more detailed than the last two and took up nearly the entire page. The Jersey Devil stood on all fours with raptor-like talons on its front legs and hooves on its back legs. Its head was a skull with long, tangled antlers sprouting from it. The beast’s tail was thick, serpentine, and ended in a mess of spikes sticking out in every direction. Like the others, it had wings, but these were covered in feathers that looked like they could molt right off the page. 

“It’s got this deer skull,” Shane said, pointing at the image. “And look at how emaciated this Jersey Devil looks. None of the other ones really had a reason to attack anyone, I don’t think. This one might just go after you because it’s hungry. And look at the muscle on the legs! It’s hungry but clearly still very powerful.”

Ryan’s eyes narrowed, studying the drawing. “You know, I didn’t get much of a chance to look at this while that witness was making it, but it really does look truly terrifying.”

“Unfortunately, this is the only drawing I’ve seen of the Jersey Devil looking like this. I showed it because, hey, beast from Hell… this is the sort of thing that I think would suit the title.”

“Yeah, it’s… wow.” Ryan reached out and took the drawing from Shane’s hands. “That’s what we should really be on the lookout for when we go back to hunting tomorrow.”

“Another neat fact about that drawing,” Shane said, “is that the guy who drew it is a tattoo artist and he wanted me to mention that every October you can get that for a mere $66.60 as part of his Jersey Devil Special.”

“There it is.” Ryan sighed deeply and rolled up the drawing. “You didn’t believe his Jersey Devil story, did you?”

“At first I approached the story with a healthy skepticism,” Shane said, clasping his hands together. ”But as he told me about the October deal I realized that this story was… was maybe not entirely true.”

“Yeah, I suspected you thought that,” Ryan said as he set the drawing aside.

“I think he’s full of shit, actually.”

“Okay, you can’t say that about our witnesses.”

Shane shrugged. “I was really working on the assumption that none of this will make it into the final cut."

“Well, that won’t.” Ryan sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Oh God, how are we going to cut this to time and make it coherent?”

“We won’t have to cut anything,” Shane said as he crossed his legs. “This is all getting to my main issue with the Jersey Devil – nobody can agree on what it looks like.”

Ryan started digging through his notes again. “No, that’s not exactly true. There has been some agreement on the details.”

“Okay, does it have the head of a goat, a horse, or a deer?” Shane asked. “Do a Google image search for it and you’ll find all of that plus pictures of what is essentially just a dragon. Nobody can even agree if it’s a biped or a quadruped!”

“So nobody has gotten a good look at it!” Ryan said. “Every story about the Jersey Devil involved it chasing people through the woods at night. Of course nobody knows for sure what it looks like.”

“So we’re trying to find this thing without even knowing what it looks like?!” 

“Maybe it’s a shapeshifter!” Ryan snapped, flipping his file folder closed so aggressively that he knocked it off his knee and sent papers cascading to the floor. “We don’t know. That’s why we’re here to find out.”

Shane said nothing as Ryan tried to collect whatever research was still on his lap, only to send more printouts and articles falling to the ground around him.

Over the past few seasons of their Supernatural series Shane had always enjoyed the cryptid hunts the most. There weren't managers and employees to work around and they didn't have to tour or sleep in any building that should probably be condemned. Unlike the ghost hunts, the cryptids were always outside, usually in some quiet forest. Which meant that there would always be some point where he and Ryan got to take a long walk in the woods together. It was so calm and romantic to watch the sunset through the silhouetted and bare trees surrounding them.

It all seemed so far away from where they were in that moment, arguing in the irritated and fruitless way that Shane usually reserved for ghosts and aliens.

“Need help?” Shane asked as Ryan bent over to collect his papers.

“No,” Ryan answered, his tone sounding a bit too harsh. He paused and closed his eyes for a moment before speaking again, softer this time, “No. I got this.”

Shane nodded and watched, his hands folded in his lap. “You got really upset with me.”

“I am currently really upset with you,” Ryan said as he straightened up in his chair. “But what else is new?”

“Anything else to say about this Jersey Devil before we turn in for the night?”

“You mean before I turn in and you fall asleep on the couch?” Ryan asked. “Just because something isn’t based on facts now doesn’t mean that it never will be.”

“And sometimes it just never will be.”

“Anyways,” Ryan said with a roll of his eyes as he set his file on the floor with the rest of the papers. “I think it’s time for me to go to bed, because I need my beauty sleep if I’m gonna go back to hunting the Jersey Devil tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Shane started to get up and put his chair away when a realization hit him. “Hey, wait. Does this count as your one demon a season? I thought we got that place in… well… no spoilers. But you know, that place we’re heading out to in two weeks?”

Ryan paused, brow furrowed in thought for a second before, “Oh God dammit.”

“You didn’t count it, did you?”

“No… no I didn’t.” Ryan rubbed at his face and carded his fingers through his hair, eyes taking on a familiar look of terror. “I never really thought of it as a demonic entity when it is literally called The Jersey Devil. It’s not like it has any record of physically harming or possessing anyone. But it is still a demon- no! A devil. And I didn’t even bring holy water. I mean, I still got my pocket Bible but… oh God this is bad.”

Shane smiled down at him. “I can’t believe that you’re going up against Satan and you don’t even have your holy water squirt gun.”

“This was a horrible mistake.”

With a soft laugh Shane turned to the camera. “Well… goodnight!”

Mark nodded and turned off the the recording equipment. “Good stuff, guys. It should be easy to cut around what we need to and… you know… make it look like you don’t want to strangle him for the first half of this, Ryan.”

“I’m starting to freak out now,” Ryan said.

Shane gave him a little pat on the back. “You’ll be fine. Mark, can you do us a favor and run into town tomorrow to pick up some holy water? We won’t need it before the shoot, right, Ryan?”

When Shane and Mark looked back to Ryan he seemed to be very interested in arranging his case file and the rest of his backpack.

“Ryan?”

“I mean, we’ll need to walk to the shooting location,” Ryan said. “That trail marker on the west side of that… lake thing. What did the guide call it? The Blue Hole. And that’s a… a what? A thirty minute walk? Forty minutes? And all through the Jersey Devil’s reported territory.”

Shane opened his mouth to say something along the lines of “You walked around the woods hunting for the Jersey Devil for three hours today and didn’t need it,” but he decided against it. Instead he asked, “Will that be alright? You won’t be walking there alone, remember. I’ll be right beside you.”

Ryan heaved a sigh and thought, worrying a strap of the backpack between his thumb and forefinger. “We’ll meet up at noon?”

Mark nodded. “I’ll bring the holy water there. Is there anything else you’ll need if I won’t be able to get it?”

Shane saw Ryan’s shoulders tense at the very idea of that and quickly spoke up. “You won’t have any trouble getting the holy water. I saw plenty of churches in the area. We’re not picky about who does the blessing. And also get a little squirt gun if you’re able to. Like how we had it for the Goatman.” 

“I can do that,” Mark said as he packed away his tablets and cameras. “And it seems like the three stationary cameras are running fine. I’ll swing on by after tomorrow’s shoot to make sure that everything’s still in order. But other than that you two should be set.”

“Great.”

“Any luck with a signal out here?”

Shane shook his head. “I couldn’t get anything. But if we have an emergency then there’s a call box on the ranger station. Otherwise, we’ll meet you at marker 24.”

Mark nodded and finished packing up his things while Shane rearranged the room and Ryan took his nightly shower. With the large collapsible table folded up and all the monitors out of the way, Shane could see how quaint the little cabin could be. He pushed the soft and worn couch back to its rightful position in front of the fireplace; where he would be sleeping that night, he supposed. There was a small pile of fireplace logs sitting against the wall, bound in plastic and looking like a present just begging to be opened. If he thought about it hard enough, Shane could almost hear the soft rustle and crack of burning logs, shifting as they turned to ash. He imagined Ryan wrapped up in a blanket beside him, a warm cup of cocoa in his hands as he started to fall asleep against Shane’s shoulder.

Shane unpacked his sleeping sweatpants and undershirt as his mind started to wander. He wished that he and Ryan could stay a few days more, not thinking about work or anything else other than peaceful walks through the woods and ice fishing. He wished that Ryan wasn’t so afraid so they could travel together without Ryan shaking at the thought of running into a ghost or a spirit following him home. But most of all he wished that he didn’t take control of the witnesses as much as he did, making them draw the monster as they told their stories. He knew that it bothered Ryan but he did it anyways. And for what? At the time he thought it was funny. At the time he thought that it would help Ryan see how ridiculous this all was. But it wasn’t. And it didn’t. All it really did was make Ryan upset with him.

Mark said goodnight and stepped out into the dark, snowy forest. Shane stood in the doorway and watched him make the short walk to his car, ready to run over to help if he stumbled in the snow banks or slipped on the ice. The night was clear, the half moon lighting up the snow brighter than the cabin’s porch light did.

As Shane stood in the door he didn’t shiver at the sub-zero temperatures as much as he simply bristled as goosebumps dotted his arms and blush stung at his cheeks. He was glad Ryan was in a warm shower at that moment; he would have been miserable if he had to sit in the main room of the tiny cabin as freezing air spilled in. Shane didn’t mind the cold but he knew that it chilled Ryan to the bone.

He closed the door and stepped back inside as Mark's car turned down the winding road away from the cabins. Just then, Ryan stepped out of the bathroom, dressed in a robe and with a towel draped over his shoulders.

“Mark gone already?” Ryan asked as he took the towel and rubbed it against his wet hair. “That was fast.”

“Did you need to talk to him?”

Ryan shook his head and sat down on the bed on the side of the room opposite the fireplace. “Not particularly. I suppose I just wanted to put off sleeping for a little while longer. God, I wish that ranger didn't tell me that he saw a ghost in our cabin.”

“You know we probably won’t be able to verify that a ghost would even be here,” Shane said as he took off his jacket and approached the side of the bed. “Don't worry about ghouls tonight, Ryan.”

Ryan scoffed. “You do realize that this isn't exactly something that I can turn off, right? Especially now that I know that there's a demon in these woods.”

“Now hang on, nobody has proven that yet either. Not even us.” Shane stepped in close to Ryan. “But if you want me to, I can help you take your mind off things.”

Ryan looked over at one of the three stationary cameras in the room, his eyes settling on the one pointed directly at the bed. “Can I show you something in the bathroom?” he asked.

“Of course.”

Ryan got to his feet and led the way, Shane close behind him. As soon as they both set foot into the bathroom Ryan shut the door and dragged Shane down into a kiss. It was rough and needy, the coarseness of his stubble rubbing against Shane’s skin. The towel he was using on his hair fell to the floor as Shane backed Ryan up against the cold tile walls. Ryan’s body was warm and damp from the shower, exposed as his robe fell open easily under Shane’s fingers.

Shane wrapped his arms around Ryan, hands trailing over skin and tracing the curve of his waist. He hummed against Ryan’s skin as his kisses moved down towards his neck. “Good to see you aren’t that upset with me.”

Ryan moaned in his throat and shrugged the robe off his shoulders, gasping as Shane kissed newly exposed skin. “No, I’m still really pissed off.”

“Mhmm.”

“I am.” Ryan tilted his head back and ran his fingers through Shane’s hair, holding him in place. “God, when you pulled out that paper when we met the witnesses… I was about ready to kill you.”

“I know, baby.”

“Ghosts and demons are the only things we really disagree on,” Ryan said against Shane's neck. “But I didn't think that you would actually mock me over it.”

“I didn't do it to mock you,” Shane said, straightening up and looking into Ryan's eyes. “But… I suppose that what I meant to do and what happened are two very different things.”

Ryan nodded.

Shane cupped Ryan's face in his hand and gently caressed his cheek with his thumb. “I got carried away with the absurdity of this case. I never meant to hurt you.” He leaned down and kissed Ryan on the lips, a soft, chaste kiss. “The next time I want to throw my own projects into the main show I’ll talk it over with you first.”

Ryan leaned back against the wall and smiled up at Shane. “God knows you already have enough of your own projects in the Postmortem.”

Shane leaned down and kissed Ryan on the forehead. “Why did you drag me in here?”

Ryan nuzzled against Shane’s chest, burying his face in the folds of his jacket. “Because I’ve been wanting to kiss you like that for months. And it’s our first night of filming the Supernatural season.”

Shane smiled, relieved that for the first time in weeks Ryan had brought up their arrangement. He leaned down to kiss him again, but Ryan turned away so Shane could only kiss his cheek.

“But I’m still upset with you.” He gently nudged Shane away and closed his robe. “Maybe we can have something more tomorrow. That is, if you can behave on the hunt.”

“I’ll play along,” Shane said, leaning against the bathroom counter. He watched as Ryan picked up the towel and went back to drying his hair. “Are you seriously afraid of the Jersey Devil?”

“Yeah, dude! Of course I’m afraid. And you know what? If I get possessed or some ghost follows me around, you’re gonna have to deal with it with me because it’ll be two weeks before I’ll be able to go back to Father Thomas and get a blessing.”

“You’ll be fine.”

Ryan scoffed and ran his fingers through his hair, looking mostly dry. “If Mark brings me my holy water. For all I know one’s already latched onto me. You know they’ve followed me home before.” He tossed the towel onto the floor next to the wet bath mat. “Even if you are here to protect me.”

Shane felt a blush prickle at his cheeks as he watched Ryan open the door and step out of the bathroom.

“That being said,” Ryan said, turning. “You’re still sleeping on the couch tonight.”


	2. Chapter 2

The couch wasn’t that bad. The cushions sunk and Shane could feel the wooden frame dig into his hip every now and again, but it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable. It was, however, far too short for Shane’s tall, lanky figure and, in the moments he was able to sleep, his legs and arms were always draped off the couch and onto the cold wooden floor.

But it wasn’t the couch that kept waking Shane up. Ever since they had tried to fall asleep four hours ago Ryan had repeatedly asked Shane if he heard rustling outside or saw a shadow near the kitchenette. Ryan was often like this during their on-location overnights, but he hadn’t been quite so intense in a very long time. He wasn’t as petrified as he had been in the Sallie House, but he was still exceptionally jumpy. The last time Ryan had asked Shane to get up he had to put on his boots and coat to confirm that there was nothing walking around on the roof. He had stepped out into the snow with a camera and flashlight while Ryan stood in the doorway, in a coat and wrapped in a blanket, shivering as he watched.

Shane didn’t bother dressing down again after that. Ryan wasn’t going to calm down and it may only be a matter of time before he surrendered and would beg Shane to walk him to the Ranger’s station so they could call Mark to pick them up and bring them back to the hotel. So instead of trying to sleep, Shane just lay on the couch in his boots and coat and rested his eyes.

With nothing to do but wait for Ryan to call on him again, Shane let his mind wander and, eventually, got to thinking about their “arrangement.”

They had been in New Orleans, affectionately tipsy after an evening on Bourbon Street. There was no resistance as they collapsed into the hotel bed together, nuzzling turning to caressing. Clothes shed easily and the “intimacy package” stocked with lube and condoms next to the in-room snack bar seemed more like a suggestion than a service. Each touch was exploratory rather than wanting, but that didn’t stop the steady stream of soft moans and whimpers and laughter that spilled from their lips. It didn’t change the helpless cries that came from their ecstatic fucking; what they had done not to each other but with each other. Neither man acknowledged the weight of what had happened until they found themselves sharing the same bed the next night, this time without words and completely sober. Recklessness replaced within a day by intimacy.   

There was no regret from either of them, but they weren’t ready to take that quiet desire back to Los Angeles. Ryan was too busy for a relationship and, really, so was Shane. Neither of them wanted to talk to BuzzFeed’s HR department and Ryan once mentioned that he was afraid that he would be pressured to find a new co-host for Unsolved. But then... there had been other shows hosted by couples. And so, although they could barely keep their hands off each other when they were off-camera for that season of Supernatural, they decided not to have sex or even kiss when they returned home. Because, Ryan warned, there would be no turning back if they turned it into a habit.

It was a strict practice that Shane struggled with for the first two weeks after they returned. But in time the desire faded from his thoughts and, like an ember, flared with only momentary heat, usually late at night. And it was successful at keeping them from falling into a romantic relationship.

For the most part.

About a month later Ryan approached Shane with a proposition: that every time they leave the city to film something in the Supernatural series that they resume their affair. After some thought, Shane agreed, although he knew that this couldn’t be sustainable. He knew that there would be some point one of them found a girlfriend or boyfriend that wanted to be around full-time. That or else they would find exceptions to the “only when filming Supernatural” rule and start looking for horror conventions or locations to film the True Crime seasons. Shane liked to think that the “not in L.A.” rule would change to “not in our apartments” and they would rent out some hotel room for the weekend or they would get in Shane’s car and drive out to the woods to have sex in the backseat like horny teenagers.

That possible future seemed so distant and yet Shane still wanted more. He tried not to think about just how much more he wanted from Ryan. He tried not to think about standing in his kitchen with Ryan by his side, towel in Ryan’s hands as he dried dishes that Shane washed and handed to him. He tried not to think about that kind of love.

“Shane?”

Shane opened his eyes and sat up, concerned by the quaver in Ryan’s voice. He looked over the back of the couch and saw Ryan sitting up on the bed, blanket on his lap and his eyes wide. With one hand his fingers toyed with the drawstrings of his hoodie while he held his camera in the other.

“Oh God.” Ryan shook his head, his voice was breathless as he struggled to look calm. “Every time I call for you I’m afraid that either you won’t get up or that something else will.”

“I’m here,” Shane said. “What’s wrong?”

“Can… can you come here? And bring your blanket and pillow.”

Shane got to his feet, feeling how tired he was when he bent down to pick up his things. “Are you inviting me onto the bed?”

Ryan nodded. “I… I need you.”

With a smile that Shane hoped didn’t look too eager he tossed the pillow down next to Ryan and draped the blanket over the bed. He unlaced his boots and left them by the couch, shedding his coat there as well.

Ryan forced a laugh. “I don’t know how you can sleep in only one layer. I’m freezing.”

Shane climbed into bed beside Ryan, the mattress dipping with his weight. “Did you just call me over here because you’re cold?”

“No,” Ryan said, immediately wrapping the blanket around himself. “I just… I rather be able to just turn and know you’re there.”

“Well, I’m right here now.”

Ryan nodded and looked down at his phone. “It’s almost three o’clock and I need you to do something for me. Remember the Sallie House?”

“Oh, you want me to keep time for you? Update every minute until 3:03?”

“Yeah, and one more thing.” Ryan rubbed at his face, the bags under his eyes visible even in the low lighting. “I’m going to have you do this while I look out the window.”

Shane looked at the window Ryan gestured to, large and where the bed’s headrest otherwise would have been. It was covered by a heavy blackout curtain that had been drawn and nestled between the mattress and the wall.

“And I…” Ryan took a deep breath. “I’m afraid to open it. I know. I know it’s stupid, but I am… I’m so afraid that someone is standing just on the other side of the window and just waiting for me to open the curtains so they can watch me. And I can see that face so clearly. This gaunt, pale face with large, bulging eyes.”

“Hey, hey.” Shane rubbed Ryan’s back and spoke softly. “Hey, it’ll be alright. Don’t… don’t scare yourself like that. Here, I’ll open the curtains for you and I’ll let you know if it’s okay to look out. If there’s some hikers out by the road on a late night stroll I’ll give you plenty of warning, okay?”

Ryan nodded but turned his face away as Shane pulled the curtains open. The forest shone with a strange brightness only found in the pale moonlight of a cloudy winter sky and the brilliantly white blankets of freshly fallen snow. The moon was visible through scattered breaks in the clouds that surrounded it like a halo.

“No one outside,” Shane said. “All clear.”

There as a moment of hesitation before Ryan turned towards the window and scooted a little closer to it. He also moved a little closer to Shane, his jeans tugging at the fabric of Shane’s sweatpants as their legs brushed together.

“I didn’t think it would be so bright,” Ryan said as he propped the pillows up against the window sill.

“After we do this,” Shane said, curling up so his long legs fit under the blankets, “I want you to try to go to sleep. You lie down and I’ll keep watch.”

Shane put his hand over Ryan's. The touch was light and something that could almost be mistaken for an incidental movement in the dark. This was a test; Shane knew that Ryan didn’t like making any kind of physical contact when there was a camera pointing at them, not without pulling away or making some dismissive remark. But now Ryan didn't move or say anything. Shane gave his hand a gentle squeeze. Fingertips pressed against soft skin, Shane was able to feel Ryan's pulse race. For a moment he didn't respond to the touch at all, but when Shane was about to say something Ryan shifted his hand to better fit into the curves of Shane's palm.

“You're okay,” Shane said, his voice soft. “You're gonna be okay.”

“I keep hearing things.” Ryan took a shaky breath and looked down at their hands. “And I know you probably have a million other explanations, but I know what I heard and you can't change that.”

“Do you want to leave?” Shane asked. “If you don't feel safe, we don't have to stay here.”

“No, I know that some of this is in my head. I… I just didn't know that snow and moonlight could cast such creepy shadows. And it's so quiet.” Ryan rubbed at his face, dotted beads of sweat visible in the low light. “I just need to calm down. And, really, I just really want you to be in control right now because I am terrified.”

“Okay,” Shane said. “I can do that for ya. And we’ll do the 3 o’clock thing and then you try to sleep. We aren't here for ghouls, remember? We're here for the Jersey Devil. And in a few hours we'll be out in the woods looking for it. You’ll need your rest. Gotta have plenty of energy for when you get spooked by a fox or something.”

Ryan smiled and turned back to the window, eyes still scanning but slower now. “I already feel a bit better with you right here. There’s no way in hell that I would be doing this alone.”

“Well, you don’t have to.”

“I’m sorry I told you to sleep on the couch.”

“No, I deserved it.” Shane gave Ryan’s hand a supportive squeeze. “And I want to make it up to you.”

Ryan nodded, looking down at their hands. “What time is it?”

Shane checked his phone. “2:58.”

“Oh God.”

“You’ll be okay, man. I’m right here.”

“What if Mother Leeds really did summon the devil?”

Shane shook his head. “Just think of it as any other cryptid.”

Ryan gave Shane a brave little half-smile. “Does Goatman count in this cryptid pool?”

“Hey, we got a bridge out of that. And you used a Ouija board, remember?”

“I remember. And I remember how Father Thomas scolded us for doing that.”

“He forgave you,” Shane said, squeezing Ryan’s hand again. “And you went to confession and got a blessing. It’s like a slate cleaner.”

Ryan heaved a sigh and watched as his thumb caressed along the side of Shane's hand. “You probably think I’m an idiot. I watch these videos; I always look afraid of everything.”

“I think you're brave.”

Ryan scoffed.

“I do.”

“But you don't believe in any of this.”

“I believe that you believe.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “You always say that like it's some great thing. It's not the same as you believing me.”

“I’m saying that to one of us it is real. And… and I’m saying that I want to understand that. And even if I don't believe in ghosts or demons, I believe in you.” Shane looked down at his phone screen. “Ten seconds to three.”

“I’ll be quiet and keep watch. Give me updates each minute.”

Shane nodded. “I’ll be right here. And it's 3am.”

Ryan took a deep breath and stared out the window and into the forest. He turned his hand to grasp onto Shane, his skin cold and damp with sweat. When he looked closely, Shane could see Ryan's eyes dart back and forth. There was a gust of wind and Ryan bit back a gasp as his shoulders tensed and his attention turned to the dark treetops and the jagged shapes they made against the oddly bright night sky.

Shane watched Ryan with an amused smile. Although millions of people all over the world got to watch Ryan scare himself half to death at haunted houses, Shane knew that actually being there by his side was an incredible privilege. Ryan was so tired and awkward around strangers. Around his friends he let his guard down and could enjoy himself, but he was still a deeply private person. But then there were moments like these, with Ryan wide-eyed and terrified. He was unguarded and entirely vulnerable. Shane had been gifted with his trust because he was one of the few who understood just how rare and valuable it was.

“That's one minute.”

Shane let go of Ryan's hand and started rubbing his back. Ryan startled and looked back at the mounted camera pointing directly at them.

“I’ll edit that footage,” Shane said softly. “Nobody will see this if you don’t want them to. Keep watching outside.”

Ryan turned his attention back to the woods and tensed again, this time his muscles instantly massaged under Shane's palm. He tilted his head so an ear faced the window pane and he listened closely. The snow dampened the sounds of distant birds and rustling bushes, leaving only an unnatural silence. Ryan’s breaths grew heavy, creating a small patch of fog on the window. It was so quiet that Shane could hear his own heartbeat and, if his eyes were any indication, Ryan’s own racing pulse was thumping in his ears.

Shane looked away from Ryan’s nervous expression, taking a moment to admire him. There were no sharp corners to Ryan’s face, which always made him look gentle even when he was angry or scared. It was a harsh juxtaposition to his physique. When Shane had first met Ryan he was fit, but now he was downright muscular. Shane was still deciding if he liked that look on him, if only because he knew that Ryan worked out more frequently when he was stressed.

“That’s two minutes.”

Shane’s voice made Ryan startle. He didn’t jump but he was scared enough for Shane to feel the hitched breath as he continued to stroke Ryan’s back.

“You’re doing great,” Shane said, his voice soft.

“Shh.”

What Shane liked the most about Ryan’s body was the gentle slope to the nape of his neck, strong but curved and leading to short, soft, black hair. He bit at his lip before moving closer to Ryan, trying to remember what it was like to kiss him right there.

Ryan tilted his head forward slowly, his face getting closer to the window as he tried to see the few feet that stood just in front of the glass. He froze as he glanced to the side, now able to see more bushes and the cleared gravel road. As he leaned forward, Ryan’s hesitant but sturdy hands reached out to balance himself against the window sill.

Shane closed his eyes and tried to remember the warmth of Ryan’s body pressed against his own. He fantasized about the softness of Ryan’s skin under his lips while his hands massaged down powerful shoulders. It was so tempting to simply lean forward a few inches and kiss him right then and there; Shane imagining his content and helpless sigh.

However.

“That’s three.”

Ryan let out a breath of relief and rested his head against the window pane, finally able to close his eyes. “Thank God.”

“I’m proud of you.”

“Oh thank God that’s over.”

“You didn’t stop watching for even a second. That was very brave.”

“Shutup, Shane. I-”

Ryan’s words were cut off as Shane couldn’t resist the temptation any longer and kissed the back of his neck. He rubbed down strong shoulders as Ryan sighed, bracing himself against the window.

 “I mean it,” Shane said, barely lifting his lips off of Ryan.

Ryan moaned softly in the back of his throat, arching his back as Shane caressed down his spine. “What are you doing?”

“You said you wanted me to be in control.”

There was a soft click as Ryan powered off his handheld camera and set it aside on the bed. One of Shane’s hands traced down Ryan’s arm while the other slid under the fabric of his hoodie, sweatshirt, and undershirt. Ryan made a soft little sound as Shane’s fingertips brushed against his warm skin.

 “Don’t you like me being in control?” Shane murmured as he nuzzled against Ryan’s hair.

 Ryan drew in a hiss through his teeth when Shane lifted layers of clothes and exposed Ryan’s back to the cool air of the cabin. His eyes fluttered closed as his forehead touched the glass. Shane’s fingertips moved in slow, lazy spirals over Ryan’s skin in a delicate tease that made Ryan blush.

 “Don’t you, baby?” Shane echoed. He tugged at Ryan’s collar and kissed at as much of him as he could expose.

 “Camera,” Ryan murmured. “Please, Shane.”

 Shane made a soft impatient sound in the back of his throat and backed away, watching Ryan’s body sink into the mattress at the loss of contact.

 “I’ll turn it off,” Shane said as he slipped out from under the blankets and got to his feet. “Stay here and undress. And keep the curtain open.”

The floorboards creaked as Shane walked across the small cabin to the camera mounted over the fireplace. He glanced back to Ryan sitting on the bed and watching him. The blankets rustled and mattress strings groaned as Ryan set their handheld cameras on top of his backpack and well out of the way of the bed. Shane turned off the camera and took it off its tripod, setting it down on top of his laptop so he remembered to edit the footage in the morning.

When Shane turned around he saw Ryan sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his hoodie and sweatshirt. His undershirt looked tight on him and the sleeves strained and rolled around his biceps. Ryan ran his fingers through his hair, taking a steadying breath before he tossed his clothes aside and unbuckled his belt. He glanced over his shoulder at Shane and took his time unzipping his trousers. His movements were slow, deliberate and it would have been a tease if it weren’t for Ryan’s wide, darting eyes.

Shane sat behind him on the bed, gently massaging his shoulders. “Is this alright?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah, I just… sorry, I have a hard time getting out of my head sometimes. I mean, I’m still scared of what I heard walking around earlier. I’m still scared that there’s a ghost in this cabin.”

“We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

“I want to… sometime.”

Shane gently kissed Ryan right below his ear, resting his chin on his shoulder. “Lie down with me.”

With a contented groan Ryan let Shane guide him onto the sheets, his head sinking into a large, full pillow. Shane kissed him on the cheek once before Ryan turned to catch their mouths. His arms wrapped around Shane, drawing him close as his fingers tangled in soft, messy brown hair.

Still kissing Ryan, Shane grasped at the blankets, pulling the heavy fabric around them. He shivered as Ryan’s cold hands slipped under his shirt, pulling at the fabric until Shane finally tore himself away from the kiss long enough to pull off his shirt and toss it off the bed. He moaned contentedly as his lips met Ryan’s again, his body tingling to the sensation of Ryan’s hands and cool blankets against his bare back. Shane’s hands wandered lower and under the waistband of Ryan's jeans, not groping him but instead caressing the shallow lines and gentle curves of his body. He nudged Ryan's jeans lower and lower until he could easily slip out of them, fingertips teasing along the hem of his boxer briefs.

“Take off your shirt,” Shane ordered as he broke the kiss. “And lie on your front.”

Ryan did as he was told, already starting to look less anxious as he turned around to lie on his stomach. He clutched onto the pillow and looked up at Shane, cheek pressed into the soft fabric.

Shane kissed his hair and pulled the blankets up over Ryan's head so he could see nothing but Shane and a small sliver of the window. Their bodies pressed together and Ryan hummed contentedly as Shane felt along the muscle of his shoulders.

“Don't worry about the room,” Shane said, caressing down Ryan's arm until he could grasp onto his hand. “And don't worry about outside. I’ll watch them. And if there's anything I’ll let you know, but right now I want you to rest.”

Ryan nodded and his eyes drifted closed as Shane held him, his long fingers running through Ryan's hair.

“I never told you what the ranger told me about this place,” Ryan murmured, his voice soft and slightly slurred.

“Shh. Don't think about ghouls right now. Don't scare yourself.”

“That's just the trouble. This ghost isn't scary at all and I've been thinking about her all day.” Ryan turned his hand in Shane's so he could lace their fingers together. “I want to tell you what he told me, just so I can get her out of my head.”

“Alright, let's hear it.”

Ryan drew in a slow breath and as he exhaled Shane could feel his body sink into the mattress. “People who weren't accepted by the rest of society usually ended up in the Pine Barrens. And a woman going by the name of Aunt Mary took them in. She had a lot of the old cabins in the area, although the ranger wasn't sure which.”

Ryan paused to yawn and nuzzle into the pillow. Shane kissed his hair again.

“She took in eloped lovers,” Ryan continued. “Escaped slaves, women wanting to leave abusive families, interracial couples… everyone who was turned away by the rest of the world. She gave them a place to rest and often a place to hide, asking for nothing in return.”

“But?”

“No but. She was just a good person who helped a lot of people. She even had these secret cellars built so she could hide fugitives who broke unjust laws. Those in her care said that it was like she made their problems simply disappear. When she died several dozen people who were or had been in her care all gathered by one of the blue holes to bury her, although the exact place she was buried was kept a secret since she was so disliked by the town. Sometimes people see her cleaning in the cabins or walking through the woods, still looking for people who need help.”

Shane stroked along Ryan's neck and shoulders, listening to his voice grow softer and sleepier. “She sounds like a lovely woman. I don't think you need to be afraid of this ghost.”

“I know,” Ryan said, scooting a little closer to Shane. “But here I am. Perhaps I don't think I’m worthy… or… I don't know.”

Ryan grew quiet and Shane glanced around the cabin, just as he promised he would. There was nothing in the darkness. He sighed, starting to grow tired as be felt Ryan's breaths fall into the slow, soft rhythm of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Mark had packed up and left about an hour ago, promising to stop by at around eight in the morning to do one last interview before they all packed up and started heading north to the next location. They had both washed off the long hike and were left with very little to do other than go get into bed and try to sleep. Shane was able to calm Ryan down the night before, but he wasn’t sure that it would be as easy now. Ryan had spent all day talking about how he thinks the Jersey Devil stalks its prey and clutching his holy water close to him. As supportive as Shane wanted to be, he had no intention of staying up all night again. The walk took a lot out of him and he knew that he would be miserable if he didn’t get enough sleep.

Not to mention that some damn raccoons had been fighting under the kitchen window and kept waking him up just as he was about to pass out the night before. 

“I want to go back out there.”

Shane looked up from his laptop to see Ryan standing at the door and peering out through the curtains. “Excuse me?”

“I just feel like we’ve been missing something.”

“Ryan, we’ve hiked for nine hours today and I just washed the sweat off of me less than a half hour ago.”

“I know,” Ryan said. “But the more I think about it the more I’m convinced that we went in the wrong direction.”

“We went to exactly where it was spotted according to our witnesses; the guide we talked to yesterday confirmed that. There were two rules to where it was always seen: it has to be near the pond and away from humans.”

“When we were out there did you hear or see a single animal other than a few birds?”

Shane turned his attention back to his laptop screen. “Doesn't that mean that it has been scaring them off? That was the theory we heard from the town’s gift shop owner.”

“But what if we didn't see any animals because most of them were hibernating? Most of the sightings were in the fall or spring, which would mean that it would have had plenty to eat in the forest.”

“Are you suggesting that the Jersey Devil hibernates?”

“I’m suggesting,” Ryan said as he took Shane's coat off the coat rack and laid it over the back of the couch, “that its food moves closer to humans. Remember those squirrels that were fighting last night by the cabin’s garbage?”

“Raccoons.”

“Whatever. What I’m saying is that the food moved closer to people, which means that the Jersey Devil just might have moved closer to the food. So while we were looking at the small lakes to the east and north, we should have been heading south, towards town.”

Ryan picked up Shane’s camera rig and set it down on top of his coat. Shane considered closing his laptop as he watched hesitantly from the couch as Ryan checked the battery on his own camera.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Shane asked.

Ryan shrugged. “Yeah, sure. Why the hell not?”

Shane kept watching him. The words had come out too quickly for Ryan to have been anywhere near as confident as he was clearly trying to be. As much as Ryan believed in what he was doing, he was still terrified and Shane knew he could never do it alone.

But yet…

“Ryan, we already walked fifteen miles today. I’m only just able to feel my legs again and they are reminding me of what a terrible idea that was.”

“We won’t be gone long, I promise. I just want one hour so I know that I really did all I could with this.” Ryan gathered his coat into his arms and approached Shane. “Please, Shane. Before I realize how stupid I am for wanting this.”

Ryan’s eyes were wide with a familiar terror, but he was also pleading, which was something that Shane wasn’t used to. Ryan was beautiful like this, all anxious and excited. He liked knowing that Ryan lay his insecurities bare before him, trembling with the images of creatures that lived entirely in his own imagination. On the show he said that he liked seeing Ryan squirm. That was only partially true. What he really liked was how it made Ryan run to him for comfort. 

Shane ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

“Alright,” he said. “Let’s go catch us a ghoul.”

Ryan smiled through a quick breath of relief and immediately started putting on his layers of winter clothes. Shane watched him out of the corner of his eye as he pulled on his coat and gloves. He smiled to himself as he strapped the camera rig onto his chest. No matter if they found something or not, it would make some good content, which always makes Ryan happy. And Shane liked seeing him find an occasional rush of courage whenever his curiosity overpowered his fears.

With everything buttoned and strapped in place Shane joined Ryan at the door. Ryan wore his bright visibility vest and kept checking his pockets for his holy water, pocket Bible, and portable power bank for his camera. And then again. Holy water. Pocket Bible. Power Bank. And again.

“Ryan?” Shane said, breaking his concentration. “Are you ready?”

“Yeah. Sure, I… Yeah.” He took a deep breath and pointed his handheld camera at Shane. “So… you ready to go off the path in the middle of the night in search for the literal devil?”

"With you?" Shane smiled and leaned down, kissing Ryan on the cheek. “Always.”

Ryan stared up at Shane and wrapped his scarf around his neck one more time before the blush that tinted his cheeks could be too obvious. “Well, I can’t use that take.”

“You’ll come up with something else. Let’s go.”

Shane reached down to open the door but Ryan quickly grabbed his wrist.

“Hold on. I… I…” Ryan shook his head. “Never mind. Sorry.”

Shane studied Ryan for a second before returning to the couch to rummage through his backpack.

“What are you doing?”

“I got something for you.” Shane found what he was looking for and returned to Ryan’s side. “Whenever you get scared, I want you to remember that this is what you’re afraid of.”

Shane lifted up a keychain with the small goat variation of the Jersey Devil printed on it and he placed it in Ryan’s hand.

Ryan smiled down at the round pendant, running his thumb over the smooth surface. “Where did you get this?”

“Drugstore in town. I got it as a little souvenir, but… I want you to have it to look at whenever you get scared.”  

Ryan pocketed the keychain and, without another word, opened the front door and stepped outside.

 

 

Even though there was no path, the ground was thankfully much flatter than the route they took earlier that day. Shane didn’t even need his flashlight to navigate through the snow, glistening in the clear night. Ryan walked a few steps behind him, talking a stream of consciousness into the camera and jumping whenever they scared a rabbit out of the underbrush.

Shane checked his watch. Forty-five minutes and they were yet to even talk about turning around and heading back to the cabin. He would have brought it up sooner if he hadn’t have lost track of the time. Losing track of time and pretty much everything else was easy for Shane when Ryan was right there next to him. Nevertheless, he was starting to get a little groggy.

“Ryan? It’s been-”

A soft cry sounded from somewhere in front of them and they both looked at each other. Ryan whipped the camera around and pointed it at Shane.

“I know you heard that,” Ryan said.

“I did.”

“What was that? A fox?”

Shane took a deep breath and listened closely for it to call out again. “I hate to say this, but it kinda sounded like a baby. Like a human baby.”

Ryan groaned. “Why did you have to go and say that?”

“What?”

“Well, if it were a fox we could have just gone home but if it’s an actual baby out here in the snow in the middle of the night we need to do something about it.”

“Well, sorry we feel a moral obligation to be decent human beings.” He looked in the direction they had been walking. “It came from this way.”

Shane took off in a quick stride, Ryan following close behind him. They stopped every few paces, listening for the cry again. They stopped as they started to approach a steep hill leading down into a small, frozen stream. Shane’s eyes and Ryan’s camera scanned over the valley below them.

“I don’t see anything,” Shane said. “And I haven’t heard anything since that first one.”

“I’m not picking up anything on thermal.”

“Maybe it was just a -”

“Shh!” Ryan reached out and put his hand on Shane’s arm. “Listen.”

Shane stood perfectly still and listened, hearing something he wasn’t able to before over the crunch of the snow and the rustle of his winter coat. It was a soft, whimper of a groan that was unmistakably a baby. Shane and Ryan stared at each other as they listened, turning their heads to figure out where it was coming from. The whimper slowly crescendoed into a whining cry before immediately quieting again.

“That tree,” Ryan said, nodded at an old, felled tree at the top of the slope and only about a dozen yards away from them. “It’s coming from there.”

The two approached it and saw a large hole in the side of it, burrowed slightly into the ground and opening into the hollow trunk. Even the whimpers were loud now. Ryan took out his flashlight and shone it in. And if it weren’t for Shane right behind him he would have stumbled backwards and down into the valley.

Inside the hollow tree was a creature, eyes glowing red in the light. It looked like a baby goat, but its face was elongated and misshapen. From outside the tree Shane could see very little of it but it was clear that it was boney and malnourished; its ribs, clearly defined through its skin, looked too narrow for its body and slightly crushed. Its front legs looked far too short for its body and two grotesque limb-like growths hung off its back.

“What the hell is that?” Ryan hissed, looking over Shane’s shoulder and into the hollow tree.

“I’m guessing a goat,” Shane said, watching as the creature tried to stand. “A severely deformed goat.”

“Why are its eyes like that?”

“Lots of animals’ eyes reflect light.”

“No. I mean, why does it kinda look like they’re facing forward? Goats’ eyes don’t look like that. Do they?” Ryan shifted and the light pointed down a little. “And… aren’t goats herbivores?”

Shane felt an uneasy churning in his stomach as the light revealed a patch of bones, blood, and feathers not too far away from the creature’s mouth. It looked up at him and made that strange human-like whining sound, neither man daring to move or look away as the cry started to sound like the bleat of a goat.

The creature propped itself up on its too-short front legs and moved towards the entrance. Ryan and Shane backed away, letting it step out into the snow and the moonlight. From out the corner of his eye Shane could see Ryan slap his hand over his own mouth when he saw the unusual and grotesque length of the creature’s neck. Its front legs stepped into the deep snow and the creature, startled, collapsed in front of its hollow tree.

More of it was visible now. The two growths on its back began to move, stretching out and spreading this thin, webbed membrane. Spreading into wings.

“Shane, you’re seeing this? Tell me you’re seeing this.” Ryan’s voice was barely above a whisper and choked in his throat. “Please tell me I’m not going crazy.”

“I’m seeing it,” Shane said, too afraid to move. “However… I have no idea what I’m looking at.”

“That’s it, Shane. Look.” Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out the keychain. “It looks exactly like it. Even the parts of it that you said looked impossible it has. Shane. Shane, look.”

“I know… I…” Shane stared as the creature tried to right itself on its weak, misshapen legs, only to stumble again. “I have no idea what this is.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Ryan whispered, his voice sounding like it was on the verge of tears. “Just admit to what you’re seeing with your own eyes. Say it is what you think it is and let’s get out of here.”

“Ryan, I think it’s a goat.”

“Just because you can’t process what it might be. What it definitely is.”

“You’re right, I can’t.” Shane swallowed hard, wanting to turn to Ryan but at the same time unable to look away from the creature. “Okay… I can concede that this is what one of our witnesses saw. That’s solved. But I’m not about to say that it’s a beast from hell.”

“We’re staring right at it and it’s still just a legend to you? Some myth you can discard and forget about?”

Shane reached up and slowly unfastened his camera rig.

“Shane, what are you doing?”

“I’m gonna capture it.” Shane handed the camera to Ryan. “I need evidence. I said it before and I’ll say it again, I’ll believe anything as long as there is irrefutable evidence.”

“Are you out of your damn mind?” Ryan watched as Shane unzipped his winter coat and quickly shed it. “You’re finally face to face with a demon that we can actually see and your first instinct is to capture it?”

The creature whined and scrambled its small, useless hooves against the cold ground. Slowly, it began to right itself again.

“I’ll grab it and bring it to the ranger station. There they can sedate it, run tests, just do whatever they can to get to the bottom of this.”

“But-”

"Ryan. You know how absurd I thought this was. Not everything we do, but this one creature specifically.” Shane held out his coat like a net he was about to throw out into the sea. “And… if this is what you say it is. If we can prove that. Then I’ll believe you. Demons, ghosts, dimension travelers, humanoid aliens… I’ll believe everything.”

There was a soft thump as the creature fell to the ground once more, harder than it had before. For an instant there was a baby-like whine but that quickly gave way to a shatteringly loud, horrified scream. Shane dropped his coat and covered his ears, falling to his knees. The scream was like nothing he had ever heard before but at the same time it was instantly familiar. It was the sound of a man as he was burned alive. The sound of a mother whose child was ripped from her arms. A scream of unspeakable torture and agony pulled into one singular sound. It was war and slavery and genocide and everything man had done that was so incomprehensibly evil that it had left scars on the very idea of humanity. Hearing it was enough to force a sob out of Shane’s throat as tears blurred his eyes.

Shane felt a hand on his arm and looked up. Ryan stood above him. The scream had stopped, changing back into a whimper, but it still rung in Shane’s ears, its memory echoing over and over.

“We’re leaving.” His eyes were wide but his voice was steady. “Shane, we need to get out of here.”

Tears were streaming down Shane’s cheeks as he grabbed his coat off the ground and Ryan hurried him away. They were both too afraid to run. Shane didn’t know if he could. All he wanted to do in that moment was weep. He had heard too much. Felt too much. He couldn’t keep moving.

“Shane, come on.”

There was no point. He could barely even feel the biting cold air around him. Filling and choking his lungs.

“Shane!”

That’s when Ryan took his hand and everything hit him in a jolt that nearly sent him stumbling to the ground. His legs ached. He was freezing. But, most importantly, he could hear the rush of his own pulse. His and Ryan’s, in that instant beating to the same, frantic rhythm.

They kept moving, although not getting anywhere quickly at first. Then Shane started moving a little faster. Then Ryan. Back and forth until they couldn’t hear the whine of the creature. That’s when Shane looked over his shoulder.

On the opposite side of the valley and above the trees was a figure that must have been about eight or nine feet tall. It had large, slow-moving bat-like wings, the legs of a goat, and the head of a horse. And it looked like it had the torso and arms of a human.

“Ryan?”

Ryan turned to see it and the look in his eyes changed from terror to dread.

“Run,” he said, grabbing Shane by the arm. “Fucking run.”

They both broke into a sprint, following their own footsteps and stumbling over the undergrowth. Behind them they heard a long wheezing screech and a low grunt, much like a horse but not too unlike a human. It bellowed and groaned, tree branches rustling and breaking under the heavy beat of its massive wings. Shane kept looking back, wanting to run away but refusing to let Ryan fall behind.

“Don’t worry about-”

Ryan’s words were cut off as the grunts and the sounds of wood snapping grew even closer, the beast a shadow in the dark trees behind them as it followed. Ryan gasped, too scared and exhausted to scream or speak any more as he ran.

It felt like with every other step they were falling towards the snow. It was deep and caught on their legs, occasionally tangling Shane’s long, slender limbs. His heart was hammering in his chest and Shane could barely hear anything above his own breaths. Whatever it was that followed them wasn’t about to stop and started to get closer and closer. Close enough that, if Shane dared to look for longer than a split second, he would have seen the muscle of its legs and the folds of its wings.

The forest was dense but finally Shane was able to see the soft orange glow of their cabin’s porch light. They were so close and if it weren’t for his constant gasps for air Shane could have laughed in relief when he saw it. Ryan must have seen it too because Shane heard the exact laugh that he had felt in his chest.

“There!” Ryan half-shouted over his own heavy breaths. “Thank God.”

But the words were no sooner out of his mouth when he stepped into a particularly deep snowbank and slammed into the ground, sending the cameras he was holding scattering. Shane stopped immediately, wanting to help Ryan up but frozen in terror as he saw the beast. It was only a few yards away, out of the canopy and its wings spread wide, heading right towards them.

Ryan lifted himself up from the ground, snow melting on his face and clinging to his clothes. “Shane, go!”

The next moment was nothing but a blur. The beast slammed its body into Shane, knocking him off his feet but catching him before he could hit the ground. It gripped at him with hands so massive that they could each completely encircle his arms and pin them to his sides, clawed fingertips digging into his ribs and back. The ground fell out from under him and he watched in horror as it fell further and further away. When he saw his own feet kicking helplessly in the air Shane felt his blood turn cold.

His ears rang, although he wasn’t sure if it was from the force of the blow or the sheer terror that consumed his mind as he was carried higher and higher. He looked down and saw Ryan. He was reaching up. Reaching for…

Shane’s stomach lurched as the beast fell from the sky and drove him into the ground. It let go and Shane looked up, his lip bitten and bloodied by his own teeth. The beast loomed over him but the cabin was close, no more than a few steps away. He almost got to his feet before the beast knocked him onto his back and pinned him down again with a heavy, clawed hand to the middle of his chest. The massive, horse’s head turned to look behind and Shane followed its gaze.

There Ryan stood, a camera in one hand and the arrowed tip of the beast’s tail in the other. His eyes met Shane’s for a fraction of a second before the beast ripped its tail out of Ryan’s grasp and whipped him with it. Ryan was knocked off his feet and thrown back towards the forest.

The beast brayed at Ryan, its voice a strangled and corrupted cry. Shane dug into his pocket and pulled out his cabin key. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could arm himself with. He took a deep breath and jabbed the dull point into the shallow divot of the beast’s throat.

Immediately the beast’s claws dug into Shane’s chest and it turned its horrifying gasping maw down towards Shane. The teeth were inches away from his face and warm saliva splattered down on him. It grabbed onto Shane’s wrist and pinned it to the ground, the claw on Shane’s chest slowly dragging down his body. It tore flesh and blood blossomed through his clothes. The beast bit down on his throat when Shane cried out in pain. Its teeth were dull but narrow, cutting into Shane’s neck and crushing his airway as it began to clench down.

Everything started to go dark.

“Get off of him!”

Just as quickly as it started, the beast let go and Shane gasped for air. There was a hissing and something hot and wet fell onto Shane’s cheek. The beast cried out, its face smoking and bubbling, dripping black ichor. Coarse flesh slid off and into the snow, exposing muscle and bone. Another cry and it released Shane, clawed hands flying to its face in what only could have been agony.

Shane scrambled away from its grasp and across the snow towards the cabin, moving on his hands and knees and leaving a dark red trail behind him. Ryan stood over him, holy water in hand and flecking droplets at the beast. With each downpour more of its skin started to hiss and bleed. When Shane finally got to his feet at the doorway Ryan handed him his set of keys. Shane fumbled with the lock, starting to shake as he saw just how much of his own blood was on his hands. But the key sank in and the next thing he knew he was lying on the cabin’s floor.

He watched as Ryan locked and bolted the door before going around the cabin and closing all the curtains. The beast brayed outside, occasionally knocking into the side of the house. The lights flickered and Shane let his eyes drift closed, listening to his own rasping breaths and feeling his heart hammer in his chest.

“Oh God, you’re bleeding.”

Shane’s eyes fluttered open and he saw Ryan kneeling beside him. He said nothing and offered no resistance as Ryan unzipped his coat and unbuttoned his shirt.

“You’re bleeding a lot.”

“How bad is it?” Shane asked, his voice a rasp whisper. He cleared his throat, but it remained the same. “I’d check myself but it hurts to move.”

He winced as Ryan lightly prodded against the sides of his wounds, leaning in and examining them. There were four deep cuts that went from the middle of Shane’s chest and all the way down to his bellybutton, each glistening with blood.

“They’re pretty deep,” Ryan finally said. “Deep enough for stitches, but not deep enough for surgery. I have a first aid kit, but I can only bandage you up for now.”

“Please don’t try to stitch me,” Shane mumbled as Ryan helped him out of his coat and shirt.

“I won’t. I won’t.” Ryan looked down to the bites on Shane’s neck. “Do those hurt?”

“Not as much.”

Ryan splashed them with the last few drops of his holy water.

Shane looked up at him with tired eyes. “Tell me that you don’t seriously think I’m gonna turn into one of whatever that was.”

“No, but you know what? I don’t think that either of us can claim that we know how anything works.”

“That’s fair.”

Shane closed his eyes as Ryan rummaged through his backpack and took out the first aid kit. The disinfectant stung and Shane gritted his teeth and balled his fists as Ryan cleaned his wounds. Outside the beast still groaned and cried, the cabin rattling whenever it fell against the outside walls.

“What if it doesn’t leave?” Shane asked.

“Well…” Ryan sighed as he furrowed his brow in thought, the bandage pad in his hand sopping up blood. “It’s injured, so I’m not sure if staying and fighting is really something it’ll risk. If it’s still around in the morning Mark and Devon will see it when they come to pick us up. They’ll contact the ranger or someone.”

Shane kept still as Ryan worked, wincing as each scratch and puncture was cleaned. He reached out and touched Ryan’s arm, gently stroking along the back of his hand. “Are you okay?”

“This is my fault,” Ryan said, shaking his head.

“No it isn’t.”

“We never should have gone out there.”

“It’s okay, man. It’s alright.” Shane smiled up at him. “We have proof.”

“Nobody will believe it,” Ryan said as he taped down the gauze pads. “You said it yourself, it wasn’t enough to prove what it was.”

“But at least it’s something.” Shane gave his hand a supportive squeeze. “Ryan?”

“Hmm?”

“Were they both what I think they were?”

Ryan took a deep breath and worried his lip, reluctant to answer at first but then saying, “They looked a lot like the drawings you collected. I think one’s the Jersey Devil and the other is… well… something else.”

Shane’s eyes widened with a sudden realization. “They both are.”

“What?”

Shane shook his head, a smile unfurling on his cut lips. “I thought it was ridiculous for so many of the descriptions of the Jersey Devil to be so wildly different but it’s so obvious now. They’re the same creature. One’s a baby and the other is an adult.”

“That…” Ryan paused, slowly drying the damp skin around Shane’s wounds. “That makes sense.”

“Do you think it was calling for its mother when it screamed? And that’s why it came after us.”

“I don’t know.” Ryan’s voice was distracted. Distant. “I… I don’t know.”

They fell quiet as Ryan worked. Shane let his eyes drift closed again. His heart was no longer pounding in his chest and a dull ache was settling in all over his body.

“I used to have nightmares about you dying,” Ryan said, taking two large bandages from out of the first aid kit. “It was usually by a ghost or an alien or something supernatural.”

Shane kept his eyes closed as he let Ryan tilt his head and get a clear view of the bite marks on his neck. “I remember you talking about that.”

“There was a point when I was afraid to sleep.” He cleaned the shallow cuts and placed the bandages. “I was so afraid that if I started dreaming then it would happen again. In some new, horrible way. And no matter what I did, I couldn’t stop it.”

Shane sat up and leaned against the back of the couch, looking up into sad, tired eyes. “You saved my life, Ryan.”

Ryan’s eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know what I would do if I ever lost you.”

Shane was about to speak but stopped as Ryan leaned forward and kissed him. He climbed onto Shane’s lap, his kisses only pausing as he gasped for air between soft sobs. Shane could feel Ryan’s warm tears brush against his cheek as he wrapped his arms around him. They clung to each other, hands stained with Shane’s blood and holding tight until Ryan’s tears quietly subsided.

When their kisses broke Ryan rested their foreheads together, the two of them catching their breath. They settled and again could hear the groans coming from outside and an occasional dull thumping sound.

Shane looked towards the door. “What’s going on out there?”

Ryan sat up. “You want me to look?”

“I want to see.”

Shane felt a throbbing ache from his cuts as he got to his feet, some of them opening and starting to bleed again. He and Ryan walked to the window closest to the door and pulled the edge of the curtain aside. Just by an inch. Just enough to see.

The beast was dripping thick blood as it stumbled in the small clearing near the cabin. It spread its wings, flecked with small and large holes at looked like they had been seared out of the flesh. Muscular goat-like legs launched the beast off the ground, but the wings weren’t able to keep it aloft and it came crashing down. The groaning grew louder as it slashed angrily at the ground and tried again. It crumpled when it fell, shaking and with its torn, useless wings beating furiously.

And then it began to scream.

That exact same horrible scream.

Ryan clung onto Shane and buried his face in his chest. Shane’s hands flew up to cradle Ryan against him. He kissed his hair and closed his eyes tight, trying to shut out the sound and despair that cut through its wake.

The beast was silent and Shane pushed the curtain aside again to watch. It lay on the ground, its breaths inaudible through the walls but labored enough to move its entire body with a slow, heavy rhythm.

Ryan nuzzled against Shane’s chest. “Is it leaving?”

“I don’t know. It’s just kind of lying there.”

Shane watched the beast in silence. It curled up in the snow where its blood mixed with Shane’s, both equally black in the moonlight. Broad wings stretched and folded. Stretched and folded. It cupped snow into its great clawed hands and brought it to its face, pressing the burnt wounds into the cold. It huffed softly and white trails of vapor rose from the ragged holes that were once its nostrils. From somewhere in the distance there was a shouting. A long, low, bleating shout.

The beast looked up.

So did Shane.

Silhouetted against the scattered clouds was a shape. Its wings stretched out wide, spanning the black peaks of nearly a dozen trees. It had four legs that seemed to run on the air over the forest, heading in their direction. And when the moonlight caught its head Shane could only see the beaming whiteness of a skull picked clean and two great, twisted antlers.

“Shane?”

“I think there’s-”

“Shutup. Shane, look.”

Shane turned and his arms immediately tightened around Ryan. The fireplace was moving. The stone floor of the firebox tilted and pivoted so that the very back of it slid downwards like a trapdoor. The sound of stone scraping against stone was so jarring that it drowned out the whines and screams from the unearthly creatures outside.

Ryan pulled away from Shane and picked his flashlight up, approaching the fireplace. Shane stayed by the window, far too anxious to turn his attention away from the incoming hellish creature for too long. He watched as Ryan stood at the edge of the hearth, pointing his flashlight down into the exposed cavern.

“There’s a ladder,” Ryan said, leaning into the mouth of the fireplace while keeping a solid grip on the stone mantel. “And a room. There’s a room down there. And a lot of ash.”

Shane looked back out the window. The flying creature flew into the clearing and landed soundlessly next to the beast that Shane and Ryan had wounded and now stood with its head bowed. It was enormous. Even on all fours it was more than a head taller than the beast and that didn’t even account for the pointed, looming antlers.

“Can we fit down there?” Shane asked.

“I’m not going down into a secret fireplace room,” Ryan said, still trying to see as much as he could without having to touch the ladder. “Besides, it looks filthy.”

“What’s down there?”

“As far as I can see? Absolutely nothing besides  ash. But it probably has rats or some kinda mold down there. Although… maybe not. Is this entire thing stone? It looks like this was carved right into the stone. That must have taken a while. I mean, this cabin was supposed to have been originally built in 1840, right? Or was that 1850?”

“Okay, that’s nice. Ryan, could you take our backpacks and throw them down there, please?”

“What?”

The skull-like head turned towards the cabin, its empty sockets glowing a hollow white. It moved slowly, front claws leaving deep footprints in the snow. Feathered wings folded across its back and it made a gritty braying noise, wet tongue momentarily visible behind sharp teeth.

Shane backed away from the window and gathered what he could into his backpack, biting back a groan of pain as the scratches over his stomach stretched and tugged at his skin and strained the muscle.

“Shane?”

“There’s another one,” Shane said, gritting his teeth as he hoisted the backpack up onto his shoulders. “The third picture. And I am not going to stand around in here hoping that this thing doesn’t realize that it could, at the very least, break a few windows.”

Ryan turned his attention back to the window, crossing the room and pulling the curtain aside just barely.

“Oh shit.” The quavering panic was clear in Ryan’s voice but he didn’t look away from the beasts. “What the fuck is it doing? It’s just standing there.”

Shane stood at the very edge of the hearth, looking down into the pitch blackness. He took a deep breath and looked back at Ryan, still standing at the window.

“Ryan?”

“Hold on. It… it might go away when it realizes that we’re not coming back out.”

Shane held onto the fireplace trim as he put his foot on one of the metal rungs of the ladder leading down into the room. It supported him and Shane, aching and knowing he had no other choice, slowly started to climb down the ladder. Foot under foot he climbed, bracing himself against brick walls covered in soot until he was finally able to grab the top rung. He turned and looked back at Ryan.

“Are you coming?”

Ryan had backed up from the window, backpack in his hand. Although he couldn’t see it he seemed like he was staring through the wall at where the creature ought to be. A rough scratching sound came from the front door. It traveled up the door, up the wall, and onto the roof. There were a few seconds of silence before a heavy thud rattled the ceiling. Paint and plaster fell to the floor and dust scattered across the cabin. And then another thump. And another. The wooden boards of the ceiling were visible but Ryan still stood in the middle of the cabin, watching in silence.

“Ryan, let’s go!”

“Shh.”

“Ryan!”

“It stopped.”

The pounding had stopped. So did the scratching on the door. But the distorted shouting started up again. Ryan backed towards the fireplace but didn’t look away from the source of the sounds. Not yet. They went back and forth, calling and grunting and then nothing.

Then the sound of branches breaking.

The sound of wings.

And then.

The antlers pierced the window, shattering it into a fine spray of glass and light. The skull hit the wood between the panes, instantly splintering it as the powerful but emaciated body burst into the too-small cabin. Talon-like clawed feet scraped at the floor as the antlers carved into the newly-exposed wood of the ceiling.   

The last thing Shane saw before turning to scramble down the rest of the ladder was Ryan running towards the fireplace. Shane’s feet hit the ground just as Ryan slid across the hearth and down through the trapdoor. He stumbled against the ladder but quickly regained his footing against the metal rungs. And when the creature stuck its bony maw into the fireplace the cellar grew so dark that Shane could tell no difference between his eyes being opened or closed.

There was a clamor, a thud, and a soft groan before Ryan looked up from the floor and turned on his flashlight. He shone it at the trapdoor, the light a conical beam of dust and ash leading up to the opening and closing jaw of the creature. There were heavy iron chains fashioned into a pulley system rigged to close the heavy stone door from below. Shane stepped over Ryan and tugged on one of the chains, stone grinding and metal rattling as the slab pivoted back into its proper place. Shane fumbled with an iron bolt made visible on the bottom of the trapdoor. From above them the beast screeched into the fireplace, its piercing call quieter now.

Shane looked down at Ryan, sitting on a pile of fireplace ashes and coughing. “Are you alright?”

Ryan dropped his flashlight and pressed his scarf over his mouth and nose, straining to breathe through his coughing fits. Shane picked up Ryan’s flashlight and shone it around the small room. It was no larger than a modest bedroom and every wall, the floor, and even the ceiling was made of solid rock. The trapdoor was the only way in or out. There were no vents. There was absolutely nothing down there besides the ash and them.

“This must,” Ryan started, but immediately stopped to cough again. “This must be one of Aunt Mary’s cellars.”

“Seems weird that they would rent out something that has this.”

“I don’t know. It’s not like the passageway was very obvious.” Ryan got to his feet and started dusting himself off. “Hey, are we gonna suffocate in here?”

Shane pointed his flashlight up at the trapdoor again. In the middle of it was a small hatch. An ash trap, not much larger than a postcard. He reached up and opened it, letting in a small, dim shaft of light.

“There.” Shane said, looking back down at Ryan. “Problem solved.”

“Shane, you’re bleeding again.”

Shane glanced down at the bandages, each only halfway attached and with blood trailing down his stomach. Ryan took off his coat and lay it down on the floor along with his sweatshirt and some clothes that he started pulling from his backpack. He motioned Shane over.

“Lie down.”

“Are you sure?”

“We can only wait down here,” Ryan said, motioning him again. “So lie down. I’ll patch you up again.”

Shane took off his backpack and spread his coat over Ryan’s makeshift bedding. He lay on his back and closed his eyes, relieved to be off his feet again.

“God, you’re really red.” Ryan pressed down on Shane’s side just slightly but enough to make him wince in pain. “That’s gonna be a hell of a bruise.”

“Just tape the bandages back on for now.”

“That’s about all I can do.”

Shane listened as Ryan worked. Although the sounds from the creature above them were quieter he could still hear them through the stone ceiling. It was screaming, scratching at the floor, knocking down furniture. There were heavy, low cracks, like splitting wood and Shane couldn’t even imagine what that might be. A roof beam?

Shane rubbed at his face, stretching as much as he could without straining his already sore body. “Mark and Devon said that they’ll come by to pick us up around nine in the morning, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Won’t they be surprised!”

Ryan smiled and shook his head. “Shane, if we live through this…”

“We’d have proof of a new species.”

“I was gonna say that everyone will think we’re crazy, but sure. Maybe some people out there will believe us. The Boogaras will believe it. The Shaniacs will want more proof, I’m sure.”

“And they should,” Shane said. “But we know where to find proof now. Also, all that black blood in the snow? That’s gotta be worth something. We can expose a previously unknown species.”

“A demon,” Ryan corrected.

“Well, let’s go one step at a time.”

“No, yeah, you’re right. It’s a completely new species of animal that just happens to have flesh that fucking falls off when it comes in contact with holy water.”

“You don’t know what was in that holy water bottle,” Shane said. “Devon just asked a church for some and that’s what they gave her. It could have had some kinda salt or oil in it.”

Ryan glared down at Shane.

“That and it felt weird when you splashed me with it. Like it was oily or something. It definitely didn’t feel like normal water.”

Ryan shook his head, putting away what little was left in his first aid kit. “You know, you’re the only person I know who will believe in cryptids but still refuses to believe in ghosts or demons.”

“That’s just the kinda man I am, baby.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and opened Shane’s backpack.

“What are you doing?”

“Checking what we have now that we’re trapped.” Ryan took out wadded dirty clothes and set them aside. “Try not to move around too much; I’m not sure if that little hole in the ceiling is enough of a vent.”

Shane smiled to himself and bunched his coat sleeve into a makeshift pillow, stuffing it under his head. He unfastened his belt and opened his jeans, sighing contentedly as his clothing loosened against his bruised skin. The dull ache he felt before radiated through him as he settled into the thin cushions. He didn’t mind. There was little left to do now than lie there and wait for morning.

“Not like we can MacGyver our way out of this,” Ryan said. “But I thought that I should let you know that between the two of us our supplies are five snack bars, a packet of gum, a half of a bottle of water, a portable emergency charger, a laptop, a tablet, two external hard drives, two large bottles of lube, and forty-eight condoms.”

“‘Forty-eight’?! I brought twelve!”

“The 36-pack sounded like a good idea at the time.”

“Fuck, well we’re ready to party. Now if only I could move.”

“I don’t know what we’ll do if we get trapped down here,” Ryan said, stepping around the supplies to sit next to Shane. “Under rubble or something. I don’t know who knows that this place even exists. Mark and Devon may just think that we disappeared into the woods.”

“If worse comes to worse we can probably drink the lube.”

“Ew.”

Shane took Ryan’s hand in his. “Don’t worry about it right now.”

“I always worry.”

“I know but just… lie down with me.” He smiled up at Ryan, lifting his hand to his lips and gently kissing along his knuckles. “You said it yourself, there’s nothing to do but wait down here. Also, I think that we’ll have enough air but I honestly don’t know for sure, so don’t test it by moving too much.”

Ryan sighed and lay down in Shane’s arms, his cheek resting against Shane’s shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind the blood that stained his clothing. Instead Ryan simply hid his face in the crook of Shane’s neck.

“I don’t know why you still want to do this with me,” Ryan said as Shane rested his hand on Ryan’s back. “It’ll be my fault if we die down here.”

Shane turned his head to nuzzle against Ryan’s hair. “Then I’ll die knowing that the world is so much more complex than I ever thought possible. That there is life I have seen and touched and cannot understand. It’s like the first European to see a platypus, he had no idea what the hell he was looking at.”

Ryan breathed a laugh and Shane could feel the full, familiar spread of his lips against his shoulder as he smiled.

“He drew pictures, tried to understand them, brought back a taxidermied one. Even then nobody believed him. And that would be frustrating, but could you imagine seeing something that impossible for the first time? Well… we don’t have to imagine that, do we? And I always thought that it would be wonderful.”

“Was it?”

“I think so.” Shane sighed, closing his eyes as Ryan draped an arm around his waist. “I’ve wanted that. That thing that you feel when you go into a haunted house. That feeling of not knowing and just letting yourself get lost in what you’re unable to understand. Whenever I see you like that I’m always a little jealous. I imagined that the world as you see it must be so much more complex and interesting. And I wanted to believe in… in something that could make me feel that.”

“You think it’s an undiscovered animal,” Ryan said. “You think it’s your platypus. But I still see a monster.”

“Maybe someone saw that guy get struck by the platypus’ spur and called it a demon because it hurt him.” Shane traced small, lazy spirals behind Ryan’s ear as he thought. “I don’t see things exactly as you do. I’d like to try, though. I’d always like to try.”

Ryan shifted down so he laid his head against Shane’s chest. “I sound stubborn in comparison. And not in a good way.”

“It would be wrong to try to convince you think the way I do. I don’t want to make the world you see that much smaller. You need that room. You’re a… you’re a mystic.”

Ryan was quiet for a few seconds before finally, “what the hell does that mean?”  

“I mean, in the sense that you’re still mystified by things.”

Ryan propped himself up and looked down at Shane, studying him closely before he spoke. “I have spent the last four seasons of this series running through every possible emergency course of action for every demon, every ghost, every cryptid. I have my pocket bible marked and passages memorized. When I get home I have a strict regimen of cleansing my house and going to confessional and getting a blessing. Ever since I started having those dreams I have run in my head over and over everything I needed to do to protect you from things that you don’t even believe in. I walk into these places ready and knowing every scrap of lore. Knowing every exit. But after all this time the one thing that I am never able to prepare myself for is you.”

Ryan took Shane’s hand in his, studying the small cuts and scrapes as he continued. “We don’t agree on explanations, but I always have one. And it’s something I’ve researched forward and back. And maybe when you see me swept into all that and amazed and frightened maybe it’s because I realized that you can be so damn chaotic, such a fucking wild card, that I had to acknowledge that I would never be able to prepare myself for anything.” He kissed Shane’s hand. “I haven’t been mystified by the world, Shane. Just by you.”

Shane felt a heavy flush tint his cheeks as Ryan looked down at him. “Do… do you like that?”

“Of course.” Ryan settled back down onto Shane’s chest, still holding his hand and caressing along the sensitive skin of his wrist. “I love you, Shane Madej.”

Shane pulled Ryan as close as he could, breathing into the sharp pain when Ryan pressed against his bruises. “I love you too, Ryan.”

From above them two voices began to shout and bleat. The one that Shane had referred to as an “adult” was in the cabin now. There was a heavy pounding at the trapdoor and both Ryan and Shane held their breaths. It didn’t give way.

Shane closed his eyes and listened, trying to guess what was getting knocked over or broken or torn apart. But it was all so faint through the stone. There was stomping and shouting. Something very heavy fell to the ground. Probably the fireplace mantel. That or else they had ripped the oven from the wall and started throwing it around. He wasn’t sure. The noises continued and he smelled smoke.

Neither he nor Ryan moved from their embrace although Shane felt Ryan’s breath hitch as the smell and sound of fire grew louder. Shane’s breaths caught too, neither man wanting to say aloud that this was their fate. They both tried to stay awake as the air grew heavy, occasionally nudging each other if their breaths became too slow and even. But then fighting that became too much. They were both so exhausted and weak.

Ryan was still clinging on tight to Shane as Shane’s eyes fluttered closed one last time before falling asleep. By then he was much too tired to ask Ryan if he also saw the middle-aged woman in old clothes who approached them; the expression on her face as gentle as the dawn.


	4. Chapter 4

Shane woke up to a pounding. He looked down to his chest as Ryan stirred and Shane flushed at the contact of skin against skin. Ryan was nude. They both were. And they lay on a soft mattress. A sheet censored them; bunched and twisted into a snakelike rope that only barely covered their midsections. They were in the cabin’s bed again. It was whole again. The window was unbroken and the fireplace looked like nothing out of the ordinary.

Ryan propped himself up and looked around, lost somewhere between confusion and relief.

They startled as the door to the cabin burst open and the park ranger, Mark, and Devon stepped in only to immediately avert their eyes. The ranger shoved the keys into Devon’s hand, muttering something about having to get back to the station before immediately leaving. Ryan untangled the sheet and sat up to face his cameraman and line producer.

“Well, that certainly explains why you weren’t answering the door,” Mark said.

“It’s eleven AM,” Devon said, still not looking up at them. “We’ve been pounding on the door for two hours now. The park needs to get the cabin set up for the next guest and you two are…”

Shane spoke up. “We didn’t hear you. We weren’t even awake.”

“That’s no excuse.” Devon took a deep breath and sighed. “Look, we’ve got some bad news about this episode. I’ve been running around all morning working damage control and Mark’s been meaning to talk with you. God, why can’t this place just have Wi-Fi? That would have made today so much easier.”

Mark nudged Devon’s arm. “We should probably let them put some clothes on before we finish yelling at them.”

“Right, right.”

Ryan and Shane watched as the two stepped out of the cabin, closing the door behind them. Shane looked down at his backpack and the rolled up drawings resting next to it. He felt sick thinking about watching himself mock them now. It was all too much to think about. And then there was the mystery of how the cabin put itself back together again and how he ended up back in bed. He looked down at Ryan’s bare body still lightly pressed against his own. God, if this wasn’t exactly how he wanted things to have ended up. But still.

“Ryan, I-”

“Oh thank God you’re alright.”

Shane fell back onto the mattress as Ryan crashed their lips together and nearly straddled his hips as he lay on top of him. Shane’s eyes fluttered closed as he wrapped his arms around Ryan. He hadn’t have even noticed until that moment, but all the cuts and bruises were gone and he could move again without having to hold back moans of pain. His legs weren’t even sore from the miles of hiking. It felt like he had done nothing but lie in bed with Ryan at his side for the past two days.

In that moment all he wanted to do was flip Ryan onto his back and slide into him. To touch him in every way he knew how to know that they were here. And alive. And together.

Ryan sat up, flushed and breathless, looking down at Shane. “We should get dressed though. Devon sounded like she was going to kill us.”

He leaned down and gave Shane a rough little kiss to his neck before climbing off the bed. Shane followed suit and stepped into clean clothes. Nothing was torn, let alone dyed red and black with blood. He was still getting dressed and quietly marveling at how much had been undone when Ryan opened the door for Mark and Devon again.

“We’re packing up, it shouldn’t take more than ten minutes to do our sweep of this place.” Ryan said, stepping aside for them. “What’s happened with the episode?”

“We lost all the footage,” Mark said. His words made Ryan’s face pale and immediately snapped Shane out of his bewilderment. “From every camera. Devon and I have been trying to restore something,  anything, since six AM but it’s as if I never recorded it at all. Even the files that I already put on my hard drive were so corrupted I haven’t been able to play them. This is worse than a virus or a hack or anything. It’s a fucking curse.” He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “We can’t use my equipment or my tablet or any of my equipment. Not until I get to the bottom of this. I know you guys have your own hard drives for storing your footage. Whatever it is, it may not have been able to hit you out here.”

Shane took his laptop out of his backpack and the stationary camera from off the fireplace and set them on the coffee table. “Let me check.”

Mark looked over at Ryan. “I’m so sorry about this. I have no idea what went wrong or if it’s something I’d even be able to fix. Nothing like this has ever happened before. I’ve never even heard of anything like this happening to a project.”

Ryan nodded thoughtfully. “I know this isn’t your fault, Mark. We’ll get to the bottom of this and make sure whatever it is won’t happen again.”

“About that,” Devon said. “If this means that Mark can’t use his computers or his cameras, then he’ll need to replace them before we move on to the next shooting location. We’re due to arrive in Pennsylvania this afternoon and start shooting there tomorrow. But no matter how quickly we expedite things I’d say that the odds of us having a working camera by then are pretty damn slim, especially if we’ve been targeted by something. We’ll need to reschedule Gettysburg and just get to Long Island a few days early.”

Shane looked up from his laptop. “It’s gone.”

Mark’s brow furrowed. “What’s gone?”

“Everything. The handheld footage. The camera rig stuff. Even the video I grabbed from stationary camera over the fireplace. There’s nothing.”

Mark looked over Shane’s shoulder at the empty camera and corrupted files. “Well what the fuck’s going on?”

“Maybe we just weren’t supposed to film this,” Ryan said. “Something in this forest doesn’t want us to.”

Mark opened his mouth to say something but decided against arguing with his producer. Instead he just looked to Shane, who shrugged in halfhearted agreement and closed his laptop.

“We’ll head to Philadelphia,” Ryan continued. “Test the cameras, laptops, everything. If we still have problems we’ll head north, call L.A., and see how quickly they can get replacement equipment to us. If everything’s fine then we’ll keep going west. I know if we have to cancel anything it would be cut tight, but it’s worth a shot.”

Devon and Mark agreed, albeit somewhat reluctantly. They packed up the stationary cameras in silence and left the cabin, both deciding that it was best to simply not say anything at all. When Shane finished picking up his things he looked to Ryan.

“What are we going to do?”

“Film the Jersey Devil in our office set, I suppose,” Ryan said as he bundled himself up into his coat. “I’ll figure something out.” He laughed and shook his head. “You know? One of the reasons why I came out here was because I didn’t think that there was enough about the Jersey Devil to fill an entire episode. The lore was just… it never felt like enough.”

“Well, we showed you, didn’t we?”

“I mean, I guess.” Ryan looked around the cabin, giving everything one last visual sweep before he left. “Ready?”

“Looks like it.” Shane said, lugging his backpack straps over his shoulders. “Ready to hopefully have a perfectly normal ghost hunt where you get scared and I yell at air? Like how things are supposed to be?”

Ryan forced a laugh. “Fuckin’ ready to talk to the Buzzfeed HR department?”

Shane smiled but tried not to look too eager. “Are you?”

“For you?” Ryan stepped in close, took a firm grip on the collar of Shane’s winter coat, and dragged him down into a kiss. “Always.”


End file.
